Hating Hollywood
by Crzywildstar7
Summary: The famous Hollywood star Nathan Scott meets the average Tree Hill Haley James and tries to win her heart even though she's bitterly sarcastic to Tinsletown.
1. Tree Hill Bar

**Author's Note: I'm editing this story. And then finishing it. Sorry I was such a terrible deserter/quitter. I just didn't have anymore time back then. Anywho, a new update is going to take some time, but it'll come. I promise. **

**New readers, please read and review. **

**Hating Hollywood**

**Chapter 1: Tree Hill Bar **

Exhausted beyond belief, Nathan Scott strode into the bar, a regular bar in a regular town. As he walked in, the people turned their attention to him. Eyes burned holes and mouths gawked.

After all, this was THE Nathan Scott. Famous basketball player gone actor-slash-director-slash-lady's man—well, okay, more like player.

Aware of the looks he was receiving, he just smirked richly at them. He saw a bunch of giggling girls and waved, making them joyously bob their heads while flirtatiously giggling. All the time while thinking, "god, they are such idiots." Of course, they didn't know that, did they?

He looked behind him at the entrance door. This town was the absolute picture perfect idea of the statement "Middle of No Where." He had no idea where he was. No idea. The limo driver just assured him that he would be safe from the paparazzi. He grimaced at the thought of the media. Lately, he was on the receiving end of some harsh tabloid accusations. But, honestly, he didn't mean to date three different actresses at the same time...

He slid into the cold bar stool and ordered a shot. Gulping the cold liquor down, he looked around. Sitting at the bar stool a few away was a gorgeous brunette wearing a red business suit that curved every which way. She was sipping a Bloody Mary and reading a newspaper.

He casually walked over to her. Hey, why not score some fun? He slid gracefully into the stool next to her, but she didn't even move.

"Hey, bartender. Get this girl a nice serving of Sex on the Beach," he ordered cockily. The girl looked up agitated by this dweeb who was irritatingly loud and obnoxious. She gave him a look of disgust.

"No, I'd rather not," she said to the bartender, who nodded at her and took a quick glance back at The Nathan Scott.

Nathan looked completely bewildered at this girl, who happened to be more interested in the newspaper than him. What had just happened?

He looked at the girl, her smooth legs crossed over. She glanced back up at him.

"What are you looking at?" she asked not hiding her vexation.

"Nothing, beautiful," he smirked, hoping that his prize winning smile would melt her into all types of goo. Didn't happen.

He continued to stare at her. Why? Because he was horror struck that his smile didn't make her swoon. Completely unaffected (well, no, she was creeped out), the girl looked at him cautiously.

"Um… Do you have some sort of syndrome?" she asked warily while shifting away from him.

"No," he said somewhat defensively.

"Then would you please turn away," she asked curtly and returned to the newspaper. But Nathan didn't give up. C'mon guys, this is The Nathan Scott we are talking about. Guy with a thousand leagues of ego.

"What's your name?" he asked seductively. Just those three simple words would have dropped any girl to the floor, but for this particular girl, she glanced back up at Nathan completely exhausted from his continuous attempts.

"Haley," she said, her voice ringing in Nathan's ears. "Who are you?" she asked with scrunched up eyebrows.

Nathan almost fell out of his chair. Did this Haley girl just ask him what his name was? He was THE Nathan Scott. Hello, the guy currently starring in three movies and breaking the hearts of all the leading ladies. Did she live in a box? Even the homeless guy across the street obviously knew who he was. He had asked Nathan to autograph his can of beans.

"Excuse me?" Nathan asked with such umbrage you would've thought Haley had slapped him square across his face.

"What's your name?" Haley asked still clueless. Nathan's face mirrored all types of emotions, shock to resentment. Every colorful emotion showed perfectly on his chiseled face. Haley put her newspaper down and then raised her eyebrows still completely clueless.

"You don't know who I am?" Nathan asked in disbelief.

"Do I know you? Have we met before? O my god, did I forget your name?" she asked a little worried. She hated it when she forgot a person's name. Especially, when it was a big name client. That always bit her in the ass. A warm red glow of embarrassment swept across her soft features.

"No, but you should," Nathan said heatedly. How could the girl not know him? His face was plastered on billboards, blurring on TV ads, and gracing the covers of magazines. He was literally the It guy for every girl.

"Sorry?" she questioned him, her eyebrows still raised.

"I am The Nathan Scott," he said defeated.

"Who is 'The Nathan Scott'?" she asked with air quotes.

"You've got to be kidding me," he shook his head in disbelief. No fucking way. There was a person in _this_ world who didn't know his face or name. No fucking way.

"Am I supposed to know you?" she asked questioningly while fishing for the olive in her drink with her tongue. Nathan almost forgot she was talking. His mouth dropped down as he watched her tongue suck at the olive. He quickly shook himself out of this weird reverie. He was Nathan Scott, a guy who never was captivated by any girl, brunette or blonde. He was the captivator. She was supposed to be the captivatee.

"Yeah, considering the whole fucking world knows me," he exclaimed dramatically. So dramatically that Haley again shifted away from him and stared at him like he is an endangerment to the society.

Her beeper suddenly went off and made her jump with fright. She snapped it out and looked at the message. She placed the glass down and reached down to pick up her suitcase. Then she walked away. But Nathan couldn't let her get away. Not with at least knowing who he is. And then maybe sleeping with her…

"Hey!" Nathan called after her. Never in a thousand years would he imagine himself chasing a girl, just to make her understand the complete meaning of the title "The Nathan Scott." After all, the "The" part was a major part and not to be ignored. He wasn't like the rest of plebes out there. He was distinguished and special.

Haley turned around completely alarmed by this weird guy. Why was he chasing her? She reached into her purse and tightly placed her hand around the cold bottle of pepper spray. Never know when ya might need it.

"What do you want?" she asked while grasping the spray bottle firmly in her hand. He stopped next to her. He didn't attack, much to her relief. Slowly the grip on the pepper spray loosened up. But she was going to watch her back. This guy was bizarre, that was for sure.

"I am The Nathan Scott," he said once again, waiting for the usual response to just dawn on her. Nope, there was no dawn of realization. Just a blank stare. No dropping to the floor in absolute astonishment, no jumping up and down in awe, no gawking at the magnificent appearance of the star, not even an eye bulging/jaw dropping response. Nothing.

"Ok, I think we went over this before. I don't know who that is," she said talking slowly like he was some dysfunctional child.

"I am the guy who is in three of the top box office movies," he said. Nathan was expecting, nay hoping, for some kind of response, but again he only saw the blank stare.

"Um… ok. Good for you. I'll try to swing by the theater sometime," she said unsurely. I mean, what do you say to someone who claims to be in three movies? Not to mention, someone who is being very annoying. Do you pat him on the back and say "jolly good, but why don't you leave me alone because I just don't care" or do you just scare him off by pulling the old crazy-fan act? Like jump around crazily and ask him to autograph every square inch of your body. That should scare him off. But that's just not Haley's style. She's more of a sarcastic maiden.

"I got two Oscars," Nathan said, trying to woo her again. "One for best actor, another for best picture." Maybe that little fact would refresh her memory. Maybe not…

"Well that's something to talk about at the cocktail parties," she said casually. She was never impressed by the glitz and glamour of the Oscars. What could she say to him? "Oh really? Wow, you won an award at an award show that nobody cares about anymore really. Most people would rather talk with their loved ones or say, I don't know, have sex than watch that stupid show." Didn't think so.

"I dated Peyton Sawyer and Brooke Davis," he said again desperately trying to make her realize who she was talking to.

"Well, I guess you had some fun," she said nonchalantly while taking a glimpse at her watch. Again, what should she say? "Oh my God! But hang on… who are they? If I don't know you, what are the chances I know them, you great idiot?" Nooo, he might not take that too well.

"I have five mansions around the globe. One in Sydney, Tokyo, New York, LA, and London," he said nervously. His palms were sweating now. Why? Because he was under all this pressure. This stupid Haley girl didn't seem to be wavering under his glory.

"That's some good real estate," she calmly said. She didn't think it was appropriate to say "Oh boy, you must've wasted a fortune when you could've spent the cost of one of five mansions on some productive endeavor, like saving the forest or providing some poor starving kid with bread and water. But nooo, you had to throw your money down the drain." Hey, it was his money and he could do whatever he wanted with it. But c'mon, five mansions? Why would you ever need five mansions?

"I have fifty-seven cars," he said frenziedly. This was insane. He hardly knew this girl but all he wanted to do was prove his worth. And so far, he didn't seem to have much. He looked at her as they walked. She just rolled her eyes.

"What a number," she said unimpressed. How could one say "I hope you realize that you probably will never even sit in the majority of your cars and that once again, you have only proved yourself as a prodigal bastard" while keeping a straight face? Haley could, but didn't think it was appropriate. Besides, she was late for a meeting. She weighed both sides of the scale. Make fun of the asshole or get fired for being late… make fun of this asshole or get fired for being late… Oh, decisions are so hard to make.

"I was named the number one bachelor by People magazine," Nathan said while walking beside the brunette, who stopped for a mere second to give him that look. You know, the you've-got-to-be-the-most-pathetic-creature-in-this-vast-limitless-universe look. Well, at least he got some response. Not the kind he was praying for, but a response to say the least.

"What an accomplishment," she scoffed. Put yourself in her shoes. What would you say to this man? "Congratulations, you were publicly named the most uncommitted guy with the most amount of females who didn't want to stick around long enough for a second date." This poor raving lunatic had her pity on this one though. That was too mean. It's like they publicly insulted him so many times in that one statement, but all everyone saw was the word "bachelor," nothing behind the word. Did they every stop to think there were some reasons why he was named a "bachelor"?

Haley briskly walked with Nathan trailing behind like a lost puppy. They were approaching a taxi. A taxi in Tree Hill? Yeah, I know it sounds so absurd, but it was there, waiting patiently. Haley opened the door swiftly with only one ambition: run away from this insane bastard. But guess what? Nathan slid into the seat next to her. When The Nathan Scott is determined to charm you, oh boy you better watch out!

"Did you know that for just one movie, I earned fifty mill?" he said, completely unfazed by the taxi. He just sat there talking like he was _not_ stalking her.

"Well, I bet that paid the bills," Haley said while muttering obscenities. Apparently, he didn't get the message. She had made the rash move to get into a taxi just to hopefully get rid of him. But that obviously didn't work. It was like this guy was a barnacle; an annoying, talking barnacle that you wished would just dry up and die.

"I have—" Nathan started to again to attempt to impress Haley, but was cut off by none other that the tempting vixen herself.

"Look, I don't care what you have or who you are. In fact, you represent everything I don't care about. You represent Hollywood, which only steals and pilfers the poor and confused. Rich societies, I really don't care about, because no matter what you say, all those rich people are unhappy and lifeless. And listen, I don't know why you tell me all these things when I couldn't give a damn. Just because you're on TV doesn't mean I know you and doesn't mean I care. So give me a break and please just shut the fuck up," Haley huffed. She was in no mood to deal with a star-studded ass. She was so late for the meeting; she may as well have been fired already.

In all honesty, she didn't like Hollywood, but she didn't hate it either. It was just that right now, this guy was unnerving her. He was a rambling idiot that was so materialistic that he probably would end up marrying an ugly old heiress with the resemblance of a leathery cow.

"Do you hate me?" Nathan asked, now almost scared of the answer. It was apparent that this girl had taken his self-esteem down a notch and had demolished his confident state of mind. Now he was only Nathan Scott… formerly known as The (or THE, depending on his mood) Nathan Scott… that is until she told him otherwise…

Haley sat back, just surprised by the question. She didn't know how to answer truthfully. She hardly knew him… well except from his famous persona. But c'mon… no one can be that cocky and still be as real as cornbread.

The cab stopped at her office building. She got out of the taxi with Nathan in tow. He leaned hard against the taxi, nervous of her answer. She just looked at the sullen face of Nathan Scott.

He didn't know why at this moment, all the fanmail in the world meant nothing; he didn't know why suddenly all his possessions seemed small; he didn't know why he cared what one person out of all people alive thought of him. He just inexplicably did. It was the first time he was actually getting an honest answer from somebody who didn't give a shit about his wealth or power or fame. And no matter what the answer would be, Nathan knew that he'd probably always remember it.

"No… I just don't know you," she finally said, hoping that he would understand. She truly didn't know him. She'd never had a real conversation with him about abortion, homemade apple pies, and favorite 80's music.

They stood there for a few seconds, Haley looking at the ground. Funny how fascinating the concrete pavement suddenly appears to be during these types of situations. She glanced back up at him, only to find his beautifully blue eyes staring at her. Quickly, she walked away. With each heavy step, she willed herself to go into the office. She didn't want to fall for his charm. It had finally gotten to her and she was falling badly. And she has resisted so well too…

She knew she could very well be fired, but there was still this spark of hope that maybe, just maybe the boss had gotten laid and was in a good mood, a non-firing mood.

As she walked reluctantly to the office, she felt a pair of strong sturdy arms turn her around and then a pair of swimming blue eyes gaze at her. He then smashed his lips on hers and was steadily kissing her with increasing fervor.

Instinctively, she placed her arms around his neck. And she couldn't help but lift her foot off the ground. The kiss was foot-popping intense. And strangely enough, it seemed just so natural. Just then she heard her name being called. She got off him and turned around to look up at the office building.

"Ms. James! Ms. James! You get your ass up here or your ass is fired!" her boss yelled out the window. Feeling her face tinge with a bright shade of red, embarrassment swept over her as people stared at the Nathan and Haley. Some recognized Nathan and started pulling off the old crazy-fan act.

So much for that "spark of hope." Grumbling, she turned back to Nathan, but he wasn't there. Instead she saw the taxi swerve off back towards the bar, his silhouette sitting in the cab and looking in her direction.

Years of being that wonder girl for almost every guy in this dumpy town still hadn't prepared her for this moment, the moment when everything changed

She wanted to chase after him, but her legs only carried her in one direction: towards the tyrannical boss and away from The Nathan Scott…


	2. Charlotte Theater

**Author's Note: Revised chapter two. **

**Chapter 2: The Charlotte Theater**

Months after that sweltering hot day in Tree Hill, Haley was in the balcony still dreaming of "the first unfortunate incident." The simple kiss had been labeled as the "unfortunate incident" being how it single-handedly blew apart her steadily growing disgust at those overspending pigs in Hollywood. It was kind of mind shattering when she realized that she had feelings for the biggest pig in Tinsletown. More like mind exploding and then nuking and then exploding all over again…

And the worse part was the paranoia. She started to think that maybe this guy had played her like she was a game. Maybe, he purposely wanted her to kiss him, then manipulate her mind, making her think that the kiss held some meaning … he was an actor after all… The weird theories for that kiss slowly started to get more and more outrageously improbable. It was then she realized a better theory: maybe she should visit a psychologist…

Whatever she did, she had to do before the festival, the Moondance Festival. Her company was the business who provided all that red carpet… the red carpet that the stars were supposed to frolic and prance upon. Lift up their skirts like little pansies and give all the reporters lap dances… That sort of stuff. The Moondance was a pretty damn big American premiere movie show and so they needed much red carpet for the whole frolicking/lap dancing thing.

For each show, the company gave away 1 ticket to the opening in a raffle. Some little fucker, probably her best friend named Lucas, put her name in and guess what happened? She won. Her damn good luck got her ass into something she'd kill to _not_ do. This event she liked to call "the second unfortunate incident." Then "the third unfortunate incident" would be when Lucas would suddenly find out that he had been castrated… damn ass had tricked her…

So here she was. In the balcony, wearing a red silk gown, which apparently made her look "smoking" (quoted from Tim; it should be duly noted that his favorite movie is The Mask).

The door opened and Lucas bustled in looking quite beside himself.

"So you must be excited?" he asked her smirking. Damn ass was cocky, but soon, thanks to "the third unfortunate incident" he would be cockless… how she loved revenge and puns!

"Who wouldn't be jumping with pure ecstasy at the mere thought of socializing with a bunch of ratbags?" she threw at him sarcastically. Lucas, her dumb dick of a best friend, had left her to be devoured by the vultures of higher society. Coexisting in the same universe was enough. How she would come home without committing suicide was going to be a miracle in itself.

"Still bitter are we? Well at least you'll be having some famous company to grace your presence with," he said with a deep cocky smirk. Haley looked up at Lucas, thinking for a mere second he was talking about The Nathan Scott… No, Haley… he couldn't possibly know about that… that was a secret to keep to the grave… just like that old woman in Titanic… to the bottom of the ocean… she would carry that damn secret to the bottom just like her… minus the saggy body…

"What are you talking about?" she said acting dumb. Although she could never act convincingly, she had a knack for pretending to be dumb. It just came natural. She could flip her hair, widen her eyes, and act like a dumb blonde (no offense) in a second flat.

"Oh the dumbass act huh? You use that too much. I swear half the people at work think your mom dropped you on your head. The other half think you dyed your hair brown," he said knowing her too well. Haley was like a Doctor Seuss book. You could read her. Even if you were the stupidest kid on earth, eventually you could read her. "Besides, Jenny from Accounting caught you watching E! the other day," he continued.

"I was not," she said hotly. Ok… she was stretching that little white lie. But Lucas doesn't need to know every goddamn thing in the world…

"Apparently you were watching an E! special on Nathan Scott." He glanced up at Hales who was reddening like a tomato. He got her good. He mentally patted himself on the back… Hey, no rolling of the eyes! Self-awareness of one's achievements is very important. Lucas is a very firm believer in that concept.

"Yeah well, Jenny from Accounting lives in a house boat," Haley huffed. Stupid Jenny, Haley cursed. As of tomorrow, Jenny's seat was going to have a sharp pin on it for the rest of their working days until she retired… or died, either one. That old bitch loved to gossip and hated Haley, a very bad combination for little poor innocent Haley. But no one took Jenny seriously. C'mon, she lives in a house boat for crying out loud. She's a water demon.

"Are you dissing the house boaters?" Lucas asked so dramatically, you'd have thought Haley had actually cared enough to insult house boaters. For Lucas, it had been a childhood dream to live on a boat. The wind ruffling in his hair and the seawater spraying him as he peed out in the big deep blue. One of his most sought after dreams if he did say so himself.

"No… I'm just implying she's a crazy old bitch," Haley said dryly. She was always blunt. Why hint at something when it's so obviously true that you could practically smell, hear, and see the fart?

Haley looked at her watch. Three o'clock on the dot. Sighing deeply, she turned around to grab her leather purse and took one last look at the cracked mirror.

"Haley if looks could kill, I'd be so alive right now," Lucas said amused at his own joke. What an idiot. Sometimes, he got lost in his own paradoxical world where his unbearably lame humor would score him some major points towards the opposite sex. Haley couldn't blame him though. He hasn't had sex in over a year. That kind of thing could make a perfectly sane person collapse into a mentally unstable state where he would soon depend upon his stupid jokes to get laid. But no one would want to sleep with someone who has such an appalling sense of humor. It was really a catch 22 situation. Poor Luke.

"Kidding Hales, you look hot as always," he said in a hurry as if he thought Haley had taken his words literally.

"Whatever Luke. I have got to go to this thang. Boy, you better watch your ass," she said before abruptly pulling the door closed. She glanced at her car, the Babe (her nickname for it since high school). Dented, scratched, and spray painted on. Unknown fumes were being emitted and the car creaked haughtily.

"My Babe's sure gonna make a fashion statement tonight," she said out loud. She could only imagine what those limo-riding celebs were going say. She smirked mischievously with pure glee. Sure, she'd risk embarrassing the company and getting fired, but risks are a part of life, a life that she could guarantee would be amusing just to see their faces.

She pulled up to the entrance and was about to step out onto the plush red carpet, when the valet knocked on the window. She rolled it down gracefully.

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?" she asked in the sweetest innocent voice she could muster. It was kind of difficult when the valet's face looked like a swimming oil pool of pink volcanoes. His acne was bad. She was tempted to grab the barf bag under her seat and cover his face or she herself would end up puking. Very tempted.

"Yes ma'am, your vehicle is disruptive," the valet squeaked out. He was a little nervous considering the girl in front of him was hotter than most stars. She smiled elegantly at the boy and was directed to a back lot.

"Why, thank you," she said while mentally cussing the kid out. Her "vehicle" was perfectly fine except for a few nicks and cuts. Patting her Babe on the windshield she grabbed her purse and was about to walk on the red carpet when a security guard stopped her.

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?" she asked again in the sweetest innocent voice she could possible muster. It was hard, especially when the security guard had so many chins it made her dizzy from counting. "Where is that barf bag now?" she thought.

"Yes ma'am, your ticket is blue. Blue ticket holders go to the side door," the guard said while his chins wobbled up and down. Haley almost got confused at which was his mouth. Was it the one with the stiff graying stubble or the one with the hairy moles? Still thinking about this mystery, the guard directed her to the side door where she finally was pulled out of the trance the chins were giving her. They were hypnotizing her, going up and down like that. "Do not look directly at them," she thought, willing herself to look at his eyes, not his chins

"Why, thank you," she said while again taking another glimpse of his many chins. They were gross and fascinating in an odd way. How could someone have so many chins? Hmm… maybe those people at America-is-obese-so-let's-all-eat-rabbit-food Association were onto something…

She walked into the Charlotte Theater, almost feeling overwhelmed with its vastness and the décor's beauty. With the aid of a handsomely flirtatious usher, she found her seat and settled herself in.

Seeing how it was taking so damn long, Haley sat there impatiently, every now and then cursing Lucas. Soon, she started to get bored. Unbelievably bored. Strumming her hands against the seat ahead of her like a drum, she started to hum Barry Manilow. She was so into it, she didn't realize the two girls occupying those seats in front of her.

"Excuse me, but could you please shut up," snapped a girl with curly blonde hair. Peyton Sawyer. Haley yawned, completely unfazed.

"Nope," Haley yawned again. "Why the hell do they take so long?" she asked annoyed, looking at the empty stage.

"Because they just do," said a girl with smooth silky brown hair, the hair you see in those L'Oreal commercials. "Damn those girls and their lovely hair. Stupid Brooke Davis. Why must your hair have no split ends and always be moisturized?" Haley thought.

"Listen Blondie and Blondie's lackey, I don't give a damn about your big names. Why don't you shut up, turn around, and never speak to me again because your shrilly voices are giving me a headache and are quite frankly, downright nauseating," Haley managed to say while drumming her fingers tauntingly at the two girls.

Peyton just looked at Brooke, both of them turning away from Haley. They most likely thought she was insane. And she was. Just picture a girl like her sitting in a room filled to the brim with ego. It was truly suffocating her. To be honest, she pictured Hell exactly like this. No joke.

Suddenly, she heard a rumble of applause at the back of the theater. A man parted through the crowd of fans like Moses and swept in. Haley's mouth just dropped right then and there. No fucking way. Nathan Scott, The Nathan Scott, was in this room. No fucking way.

He was supposed to be in France according to that E! special… not that she watched it or anything…

She tucked her head in, whispering sweet prayers for him to just pass her by. "Dear God, just make him pass by," she found herself repeating this prayer over and over again. But she knew the inevitable was going to happen. It was that sick gut feeling in her stomach telling her that her damn good luck had again just gotten her into something she'd kill to _not_ do.

He casually and gracefully sat himself down right next to her. He smiled, or rather smirked at all the cameras. He didn't even notice her… at least he pretended not to. "Damn actors and thespians," she thought furiously as Nathan continued this innocent act. "What could you expect Haley?" she taunted herself, "he's a publicly renowned jackass. You should've known he was playing that game. See, some of your theories were right. You're not crazy Hales, you're not crazy. You're just talking to yourself in your head. Perfectly normal thing to do. Everybody does it. Why not just join the band wagon? It's like there's peer pressure to talk to yourself in your head… Wait… what was I talking about? See, this jackass is already corrupting your mind. You've just completely lost your train of thought… Mental note: actors are so damn confusing; never get involved with one."

The music pounded through the room and the roll of the drums sounded. The lush green curtains parted and out came the announcer, an old man with a shiny bald head.

"'Bout damn time," Haley thought angrily, mentally murdering Lucas. There would be no peace until he paid, and he must pay dearly. Castration, it seemed, was simply not enough right now.

"Ladies and gentleman, reporters and cameraman please take your seats and welcome to the Moondance Festival hosted at the Charlotte Theater," the announcer voiced into the microphone, his voice resounding throughout the room.

As the first premiere movie started to roll on, Haley found herself having a sudden urge for popcorn. She looked around hastily for the popcorn stand before the lights began to dim. Just as she turned to Nathan's side, she saw in his lap was a giant super-duper king sized box of buttery popcorn. "Just my good luck kicking in, I suppose," Haley thought cynically.

With the salty smell so close by and the temptation just calling out to her, Haley felt her mouth start to drool. She looked eagerly at Nathan, who seemed perfectly content.

"You're not gonna eat that whole thing, are you?" Haley asked her mouth swelling with the tempting desire to just gulp it all down. Nathan turned to her, apparently very surprised. Maybe he didn't notice her…

"You!" Nathan whispered bewildered. What the hell was this girl doing here?

That kiss was amazing… he had been thinking about coming back to her town, to the bar. But he couldn't bring himself to. What if she rejected him? His fear of being flat out rejected was overcoming the incredibility of that blissful moment. He was used to grabbing whatever he wanted it, but Haley was different… amazingly different. So infatuated was he that he didn't know one thing that may have been just a tinsy insy bit important: her full name.

"Yes, me," Haley said, avoiding eye contact by just looking at the popcorn. She couldn't help herself. The popcorn was calling her name "Haley, Haley, just kick him in the balls and take me… just take me." Haley shook her head to displace these weird thoughts. Ever since she had met him, she had become crazy.

"Take some," Nathan said, unable to control himself. Her hand reached deep into the box (which just happened to be in his lap…). She pulled out her hand and started to munch away while watching the movie. This simple gesture made Nathan grow hot. His cheeks burned red. As the movie continued, she slumped down beside him, leaning ever so lightly on his shoulder. He leaned back on her…

Haley felt her heart beat a mile a minute. She was falling hard… "Aww… He's so perfect… Wait, snap out of it Haley! Stop! Remember, actors are confusing. Don't put yourself in this position. He barely even knows anything about you. If you gave him twenty questions, he'd fail with non-flying colors. No, just stop while you're ahead… aww… but he's so cute too," Haley thought, having a mental struggle. The angel was telling her to give him a chance. The devil was telling her to drop him, better yet manipulate him in that game… She had officially crossed over into Crazy World.

When the intermission came up, the lights glimmered back on and pointless chatter ensued. Haley slowly looked at Nathan; and vice versa. Both looked away, embarrassed.

"So what's your full name?" Nathan asked nervously while wringing his hands. This was their second encounter and he was already turning into a big pile of handsome goop. She laughed softly at his question.

"Haley Rebecca-Ann James," she replied uneasily. Then there was awkward silence as Haley fiddled with her thumbs and Nathan pretended to be really enjoying his popcorn.

The intermission ended and the movie was back on. Slumping beside each other, they watched the movie. When it ended, the announcer said that the next movie would come on "shortly."

So, Haley and Nathan chatted. When I say "chatted" I mean they talked about the weather. You know, it goes along the lines of something like this: "Why, the weather looks mighty fine." "O yes it does. Last month was quite dreary though." "Dreary?" "O very… the precipitation was nonstop." "You don't say…"

Stupid chit chat. Pointless really, but it always happens during situations like these. It's like protocol. You are required to talk about the weather. Required or the world will fall apart because we will all start becoming more straightforward. And that would just be too damn bad...

Then of course, there is the awkward silence that follows the "chat." Both look at each other, then cough or sneeze to fill that silent void. And then finally, the two reach the main point… they "talk."

"Nathan, about that kiss…" Haley started with a nervous stutter. Usually, she could talk endlessly, mostly with sarcasm, but now her mouth was dry and stiff. The mere mention of that moment was enough to make her sigh. Every girl is a hopeless romantic, no matter how many times they deny it. And Haley wasn't about to start her denial… at least not right now with Nathan so close.

"Yeah," Nathan agreed, even though there was nothing vocalized to agree on really. Ever since he met her, he couldn't help but feel depressed at his life. Something was obviously lacking in his life. Sure, he had his fair share of cars, mansions, movies, and showgirls. But he wanted someone to actually be honest with him and not placate him, patronize him, or lie to him. He had a feeling that only Haley could really offer such brutal honesty.

The memory of that awe inspiring kiss hit him. Without really thinking about anything anymore (his mind had gone all fuzzy), he leaned closer towards her, their lips barely touching.

"Testing… One Two Three… Testing," said the announcer who started to tap the microphone. Because it was working, Haley and Nathan abruptly pulled out of their reverie. They looked at each other and laughed uneasily. First her fat ugly boss, now the shiny bald headed announcer…

"This movie is Without You starring Nathan Scott, Peyton Sawyer, and Brooke Davis," he announced, bobbing his shiny head up and down. The movie flicked on and the audience was absorbed in it.

When the movie finished, much to Haley's relief, the lights flickered on again. To be honest, Haley had felt the urge to gouge her eyeballs out while watching the hopelessly pathetic movie. And then to add to self-destruction, she had many urges to pull Peyton's hair from her scalp. Why you ask? Well, how would you like it if you saw your unofficial guy making out with the biggest bag of hoe since Brooke Davis? Exactly.

Wait, did she just claim Nathan as hers? "Wow wow wow, Haley stop right there. First of all, you are moving way too fast. Second of all, he is not yours. He is an independent human being with his own rights that are written legally in the Constitution and more notably the Bill of Rights. You don't own him," she thought to herself as the movies slowly started to wind down.

As the procession to the exit started, Haley and Nathan found that they were the only ones left behind. Nathan turned to look at Haley, his heart racing. In movies, he always played that smitten dumbass who followed the leading lady like a submissive puppy. In reality, he was a ruthless heartbreaker. What had happened to him?

To be honest, Nathan really didn't care. He impulsively reached his fingers out and touched her hair, feeling its silk. Still looking into her eyes, he entwined his fingers behind her head and pulled her towards his lips. She parted her mouth open slightly, but willingly. When their lips met, it was slow and soft. Each second, Nathan made sure his lips moved deliberately and surely. The slow buttery kiss was beginning to melt into a more rapid, hot, rushed one. It seemed like the lust and fervor each had was barely contained as the kiss started to get more and more physical and almost violent. Nathan pulled her body closer to his and she arched in even more. Her small hands were unbuttoning a few buttons of his oxford shirt. But then, Haley remembered where she was and who he was. She pushed him back. They stood five feet from each other, trying to get their breathing rates calmed down.

"Thank you," he said, still slightly out of breath.

"For what?" asked Haley. Her breath seemed short and hitched. Damn it, she wished she had brought her inhaler with her tonight.

"The kiss…" he answered. He turned and headed out for the entrance. After she collected her handbag and straightened her dress, she went out the exit. Both were completely unaware that they would soon meet again.


	3. The CCC

**AN: Thanks to all who read and reviewed! You guys deserve many thank yous. I wrote individual notes for yall, but they just disappeared. Needless to say, I am pissed at the Internet black hole. But I will voice my thank yous to the following: _Yochy, lysser8312, newportbabe44, Reader07, bugbabe24, OTHlover04, hope165, LockerRoomBandit17, Aiesha,_ and _sleepneeded911_. **

**Chapter 3: The CCC**  
  
A month slipped by but that kiss still haunted both Haley and Nathan. Neither could forget the raw passion. Haley started to feel just like a hopeless romantic and Nathan felt like a weak puppy in love. The sad part was that they had no way to contact the other. Yep, Nathan's security guards were strict on "stalkers" so Haley could never send him "fan" mail. Nathan only knew her full name. Haley James is as common as John Smith. So much for tracking down his star-crossed lover. Besides that would be so Lance Bass-like (no offense).  
  
So they remained separated. Of course, neither were pathetically moping around openly. Haley went on dates and hit the sack a few times. Nathan, well he did the wild thang too. But the fcuk toys were just not enough. Both wanted more and could only find it when the other was around.  
  
Of course Haley, being of the female population and under such weird love circumstances, definitely needed girl talk. She needed a good pillow fight, a major ice cream binge, and a big gossiping rant. So she called Jake.  
  
Now I know what yall are thinking. Ain't Jake a guy? Well, that my friend is the mysterious beauty of transsexuals... Just kidding! Jake is the straightest most fertile guy alive, seeing how he has a baby girl with that Nikki slut. But being a young father just makes him more sensitive than the rest of the cock-grabbing males... even more so than her fellow females.  
  
Once they had dug their claws in enough ice cream to give them stretch marks (not sure about Jake though... do guys get stretch marks?), they began the girl talk.  
  
"Jake, if you were a girl and you met this guy who was a total prick and one of those people you usually wish death upon, but you now kinda love him. Well, no I mean, you like him. Because I for one am not a girl who swoons and falls in love—but I'm not talking about me. No, no, no my friend, I'm talking about this friend of mine, who—uh is in this situation... so what would ya do?" Haley asked Jake so nervously that she rambled on. "Dear God, I hope he fell for the 'this friend of mine' excuse. O who am I kidding? Even, Lucas, the village idiot, would never fall for that one. Nice save, Haley, you really know how to use that 10% of your brain to your advantage," she taunted herself cynically. This was the first time she talked about Nathan... well outside of her head, that is. And she didn't want to let that to-the-grave secret get out of the grave and haunt her. Basically, she was a little queasy talking seriously about a guy.  
  
"Aww... who's the lucky guy?" Jake said seeing through her lame excuse while winking and prodding her on the shoulder. Haley just rolled her eyes. "Why am I friends with him again? O right, for girl talk," she thought. He was so much like Lucas that she had to be super patient. Both were brothers and shared the same genes that linked them with stupidity and insanity. Nevertheless, she loved both crazy idiots.  
  
"Nathan Scott," she said while feigning sarcasm. Hey, she was technically telling the truth. He just most likely wouldn't believe her, but that was his problem. And she didn't have a problem with it one little itty bit.  
  
"And I'm the queen of England," Jake said as he scrunched up his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. He could tell she was acting, but he wasn't sure. She was so sarcastic. But that was Haley for ya. "Good god, some guy better tame her one day. She seriously is in need of the tameage. Hell, I'll pay a gigolo to... but that could turn into a really bad teen movie moment," Jake thought while braiding her hair. Hey, it is girl talk!  
  
"Nope buddy, you're the drag-queen of America," Haley said quickly while laughing at Jake's face. That didn't last long though. Jake started to begin the tickling ritual. Ahhh how the tables have turned!  
  
"Say uncle!" Jake commanded while tickling under her arms, the universal tickling spot. He put her into a headlock and waited patiently for her to comply. He loved to mess with her. Underneath that heart of solid ice was a heart of gold. But it was protected by a thick layer of lead. Being the supreme genius he was as a kid, he remembered telling her that she was a hopeless case. If Superman can't even help you (because he can't see through lead—duh!), then who else could? See, the mind of a young genius is pure and brilliant.  
  
"Aunt!" Haley said while laughing as she raced out of the room, half her hair in a braid, the other half in a weird Spice Girl-like pigtail. "Wait, what?" Jake asked himself confused and followed her, still bewildered that Haley had out-witted him. Only Haley could pull a fast move like that.  
  
_Brrrrrrrring!_ The phone's ringing echoed through the hall and Jake rushed to get it. As the conversation ended, he went over to Haley picked her up and shoved her over his shoulder like a dead body in a bag—except she moved lively and kicked all of the place. Add incessant whining to the violent thrashing and you have a hysterical Haley laughing and crying out in annoyance. He grabbed the car keys and buckled her into the car like she was a 2 year-old.  
  
"Where are we going?" Haley asked still not fully grasping the fact that Jake had just carried her across the whole house into the car. Wow, the boy had some mighty biceps. That was for sure.  
  
"The country club. I've got a police meeting and you're just coming because you called me an Aunt," Jake said while checking his watch. Haley pouted at Jake and then decided to try the dumbass act... just to see if she could get out of this mess. Hey, it works when she's at the office. People tend to think she's too dumb to hold a folder. It's a beautiful skill, it truly is...  
  
"What? I never called you an Aunt," she said, popping her eyes out and flipping her hair. Jake just laughed. Yep, he knew that trick. Everyone knew that trick. A person with half a freaking brain would know that trick. She just didn't know how obvious she was.  
  
"Are we there yet?" Haley asked, her voice screeching with whininess. He told her to shut up in that fatherly voice. She smirked richly at herself. Yep, she knew how to get on Jake's nerves. If she had to go to the country club, she would make the time being a living hell for poor Jake.  
  
"Are we there yet?" she asked over and over again, every two seconds. Of course, Jake knew what she was doing. So, like a good caring father, he just put ear plugs in. Easy as that kiddos, easy as that.  
  
When they pulled into the country club, Jake had to pry Haley from a metal poll she was clinging onto for dear life. Haley with her spectacularly wild hair-do entered the Charlotte Country Club with distaste for this hide-out for rich bums and contempt at Jake. The CCC was a "sophisticated luxury club for the wealthy only." Jake and Lucas were from a big time wealthy family. Thus, Haley had free entry throughout the club without even a second glance at her Spice Girl hair.  
  
"God, this place is like the underground chambers for the KKK. It's no wonder they are called the CCC—Clu Clux Clan, duh! They are like the secretive KKK... minus the racism. Ok, so maybe they aren't even remotely related or linked to the KKK, but whatever! They are just a big pile of rich pigs. I SO don't belong here. I swear, I may just drop dead right now. I hate this place... Ahhh I need a good drink. Maybe if I get drunk, they'll kick me out and I'll be arrested for my innate ability to be loud and obnoxious," Haley thought furiously while sliding into a smooth bar stool.  
  
She looked up at the menu board, intending to read the alcohol specials. Except for one tinsy little problem. Everything was in another fcuking language. Pent up anger boiled over and she tapped the shoulder of some waitress.  
  
"Excuse me, but what the hell is that?" Haley said angrily pointing to the menu board. She watched the waitress expectantly, while thinking "the point of the freaking board is to understand it. Not for the calligraphy to just sit pretty and be gawked at. No, I wanted a good hard drink and now I can't have it. Thanks to the genius who decided that America all of the sudden couldn't understand English anymore. So now, I have to learn French or German or Chinese to understand a menu. What's next? Chinese restaurants with Italian menus?" She really wasn't pissed off at the menu board. Noooo, it was in the way of her wrath. And so was the poor waitress.  
  
"Ma'am that would be French," the waitress said politely in her deep Southern accent while gripping her apron tightly. She sure as hell would like to give this bitch the ol' one two. As a waitress though, she had to restrain herself. It was people like Haley that made her squeeze her stress ball to the point of spontaneous combustion.  
  
Haley squinted her eyes trying to decipher the letters. "Looks like the English alphabet, but it's not quite English... " she thought, completely forgetting her anger. Finally, she gave up. Why she thought she may actually have a hidden knack for translating French was unbeknownst to her. Her anger reappeared instantly and she demanded an English version.  
  
The waitress hurried to get it and handed her one. All the while thinking "stupid bipolar bitch. Just wait, one day I won't be working here anymore and I'll walk right up to her. Give her the blackest eye this side of the Mississippi. Just wait bitch, just wait..." Yeah... the poor deep Southern waitress was grudging, but who could blame her? Poor girl's been waitressing for 8 years at a snooty club. Not exactly the dream of the century.  
  
Browsing carelessly through the menu, Haley turned her attention to the rest of the rich snobs around her. She had tried to converse politely, well at least Haley's version of "politeness" (meaning, there would be a few snide remarks followed by the ever so famous Haley James eye-roll). But over the years, she just gave up. And quite frankly, she didn't feel like being condescended to.  
  
As she scanned the room for potential one night stands, her eyes zoomed in a male figure being fawned over by countless hoes. They were giggling and twirling their hair. "My god, could they be any less pathetic? Seriously. Besides, he would never give them a chance. Look at them. Their eyes are wide, their twirling their hair... just like my dumb blonde act. O MY GOD! Nahuh! They did not just steal my dumbass act! That's robbery, I tell you. No way Jose! That's my act hun, so just drop it and get your scrawny ass out the door... Damn, I knew I should have gotten it patented..." Haley thought glumly while muttering "fcuking injustice" and "dumbass-act stealing whores" every now and then.  
  
As the cloud of females spread apart, Haley's jaw just dropped. No fcuking way. She rubbed her eyes hard. Were her eyes deceiving her? After all, her contacts were a bitch this morning. Was she hallucinating? Not drinking a good daily dosage of liquor in the CCC tended to make her delusional. Did he have a twin she didn't hear about? No, they would've been the male version of the Olsen Twins. Ew, that'd be creepy. Was this guy just a look- alike? Most celebs have look-alikes. Of course. He probably had a couple look-alikes. That was it. It couldn't possibly be the real Nathan Scott.  
  
Why? Because that would be like a really bad love story where the lovers would only meet through destiny even though one lives luxuriously in Hollywood and the other's in a small dinky Southern town that's not even on a map. And those bad love stories... well, they just don't ever happen, do they?  
  
Deciding that the male figure was a look-alike, Haley walked by hoping if it was the real him, he'd notice her. If not, then he's a look-alike or he's not interested anymore. She slowly walked past him, looking into his eyes. Ok, no doubt about it. That's the real him. Soft fuzzy little butterflies started to swim in her stomach. Nervous dread swept through her. He looked directly at her; blue eyes on brown.  
  
Nathan left the swarm of girls and climbed upstairs to sit out on the balcony. He was kinda hoping Haley would follow him. You know, get the hint, catch his drift, read between the lines; but she just stood there staring at him. "My life is a really bad love story. No doubt about it," she thought quietly as she began to move her numb feet. One foot in front of the other, she climbed up the stairs and headed towards the balcony.  
  
She opened the French-made porcelain doors, while silently cursing the CCC's elegance yet lack of interest in the world's ever-increasing problems. "Stupid door could be sold and feed an entire tribe, but noooo. Let's just sit back, relax and watch them all die from our embroidered downy feather-stuffed sofa. Just add all of those silky throw pillows and voila! You've got instant entertainment fit for the CCC's elite," Haley thought sarcastically. Ok, she knew she was being a complete and utter hypocrite right now. I mean, she's not exactly rallying for that tribe, is she? Hell, she works for a red carpeting company. She practically endorses celebrity/rich people life. But right now, she needed to focus her attention on something, anything other than Nathan and all her girly notions of love.  
  
Both lovers looked deeply into the other's eyes. Then the waiter knocked on the balcony's door and opened them. He stared at them, too. It was exactly like that moment on this really bad teen drama show. You know, the part when the guy is like staring at these two girls in his room and it takes like _forever_. I mean, you just want to stand up and slap that kid. It was like a freaking staring contest. Geez... what was the name of that show? Hmm... I wonder...  
  
After the star-struck waiter left (which, by the way, took like _forever_), Haley leaned against the railings right next to Nathan. He was gripping the metal railing with white fingers, thinking "God, maybe I just might get her phone number _this_ time..." He sure as hell didn't want to miss his shot. He was going to get that number even if he had to ask the CCC's owner. There's a very fine line between wannabe lover and stalker, and Nathan seemed to be crossing with one toe over that line.  
  
"So umm..." Nathan started, trying to break the ice. He was never great at these types of things. He never needed to break the ice. Usually, he was the person ignoring the attention and shooing off the fans. But, he could probably safely say that... umm... this was definitely not one of those times.  
  
"So umm what?" Haley asked, sick of the ice-breaking. Cmon, ice-breaking takes more than the use of one word and one incoherent syllable. Duh, that's like common knowledge. And of course, our dear Haley James was never one to beat around the bush.  
  
"Uhhh..." Nathan managed to say. Hey, can ya blame the lil bugger? The girl just made his tongue tie up in a Houdini knot and belittled his attempt to break the ice. I'm sure you could scrape some bits and pieces of sympathy for the poor guy.  
  
"So what do ya think about the weather?" Haley asked after Nathan had a complete brain meltdown. She was trying hard to light up a conversation, but she found it very excruciating when your converser seemed to suddenly lack brain cells. But, of course, talking about the weather is the best conversation starter to yet be made. And being never-failing, it worked again. So Haley and Nathan talking inanimately about the bouts of rain and wind for a good 3 whole minutes. Yey, for them.  
  
Then the silence presumed and the wind did indeed blow by. Shivering, Haley walked inside silently and was predictably followed by Nathan. He then directed her to a bedroom. Bright-eyed, Haley followed willingly this time. Cmon, gals, this is the moment Haley and every romantic novelist has been waiting for...  
  
Once inside the luxurious room, Nathan popped open a bottle of cabernet sauvignon and poured two glasses. Haley followed, letting her romantic thoughts swallow her up. "O my, awww the wine gesture was so sweet. And a perfect grape choice. Just what I like. How'd he know? O he is just the sweetest thang since brown sugar... Hold up, did I just say that? My god, what did he do to me?"  
  
"Let me just go get some fruit," Nathan said as he opened the door and gently shut it tight. He wanted to do this the right way. With the wine and fruits and of course, the whipped cream... This was their 3rd meeting and he was ready to give her everything already. "She looks so beautiful... even with the weird hairdo, she looks stunning..." he thought as he entered the open kitchen to grab the necessities. Just as he had everything, he ran into someone.  
  
"Excuse me," Nathan said nonchalantly. Nothing was gonna take his mind off the o so many possibilities. And those possibilities included the use of whipped cream... ahhh, he was drooling already...  
  
"So you're the guy Haley's been talking bout? I'm Jake, her best friend. C'mere I wanna ask you something," Jake said while eyeing Nathan suspiciously. This guy may be famous, but he was no fool. He did happen to see Haley enter a room with this fella and right now, he could also easily see the whipped cream.  
  
Nathan followed Jake reluctantly, but felt like a boy talking to his girlfriend's dad. He was nervous, but determined. He just as hell wasn't gonna lose Haley to this guy just because Jake was an overprotective big guy who intimidated Nathan to the point of pant-pissing. Hey, dads scare all guys... It's a _totally_ normal reaction on Nathan's part... He's not a wuss. "I'm not a wuss," Nathan repeated in his head over and over again. If he chanted it, maybe it'd come true...  
  
Jake brought him to an excluded area and then cornered Nathan to the wall. Awww... just like the dad he was...  
  
"What are your motives?" Jake began with a burly voice.  
  
"I uhh..." Nathan stuttered. He wasn't one to do well under pressure, especially when there was a girl at stake.  
  
"What's your M.O.?" Jake said again, more professionally.  
  
"What are you, a cop?" Nahtna said after a minute or two of stuttering. He had managed to regain some confidence and lead full stream ahead.  
  
"I'm a sergeant and detective," Jake said with big eyes that could make a man yelp for his mama.  
  
"Ooo..." Nathan said after understanding that he was in a bigger pile of sh!t than he had originally thought.  
  
"So is this a fling or something more?"  
  
"Something more, I believe—"  
  
"Right, we should talk about your beliefs. Your religious beliefs.  
  
"I go to church... an-and I help lil kids on the street an-and I—"  
  
"I don't care. Do you believe in the Ten Commandments, namely the adultery and lying part?"  
  
"I uhh.. sure. Sure."  
  
"Is that a yes or no, soldier?"  
  
"A yes. It's a yes."  
  
"So what do you feel about sex?"  
  
"It's umm... great?"  
  
"Great huh? By great, do you mean it's just meaningless and you're never gonna call her? Or do you mean, you're just gonna drop your pants, pass on an STD and leave?"  
  
"I'm gonna call her and I don't have any STDs and I won't leave and I—It's not meaningless..."  
  
"Which is more important, love or money?"  
  
"Love."  
  
"Good, now do you care about her?"  
  
"Yes, I think I even love her..."  
  
"Ok, so you passed the test. But hell will break loose if I even hear that she has an STD or you cheated or lied or pulled some sh!t. Got it?" Jake asked sternly, pointing his finger up at Nathan like he was a naughty child caught stealing porn.  
  
"Uhh yeah I got it," Nathan said while looking at the gun in Jake's pocket. Jake turned away and walked off. Numbly, Nathan stood there. "What the hell just happened? One second, the guy was all smiles. The next, he's cussing and yelling. My god, this town is bipolar," he thought while running his hand through his ruffled hair. He walked back to the bedroom, dreaming about the wonders of whipped cream.  
  
Hand on the knob, he opened the door, seeing an empty bed with a chicken- scratched note on top of the silky quilts.  
  
_Nathan, I'm sorry I have to go. My sis, Jules, has just gone into labor and she's yelling on the phone for me to be there pronto. I really really wanted tonight to happen. I have to go before she gets out the guns. Sorry. Love, Haley._  
  
"God dammit. My life is a really bad love story," Nathan said out loud before dropping the whipped cream and fruit. He knew where he was going: straight to the CCC's owner for a little info leak.


	4. Flight 101

**AN: Sorry it took awhile. Thank you to everyone who reviewed so far. I hope I did this chapter justice. ENJOY & REVIEW!**

**Chapter 4: Flight 101, Charlotte to Bahamas**  
  
Being the chicken he was, Nathan couldn't bring himself to call her. Cmon, he didn't want to seem desperate. But in all actuality, he was denying the horrifying truth: he was pathetically desperate. So desperate, he'd make Lucas, the guy who desperately uses lame jokes to stop his celibacy streak, bow his head in shame.  
  
So in his first class seat he sat, staring out of the plane's window. He was flying to the Bahamas for a vacation. A much needed vacation to add to that. To be honest, the red carpets were beginning to make him dizzy. I mean, why are they red? Why not green or blue or tangerine? Is there something wrong with the other colors of the rainbow? What makes red so special? And an even better question: why is Nathan thinking so hard about red carpet?  
  
Truth be told, he was reaching the point of insanity. Her phone number was waiting patiently to be dialed and it was driving him insane. She was just a phone call away. 10 digits away. A flip of the cell away. And yet, here he was moping around like the sky was falling. Chicken Little would be o so proud.  
  
Scrapping up some tidbits of courage, Nathan grabbed his cell phone and dialed her number with trembling hands. He knew the number by heart. Staring at a phone number for hours can really help jog your memory. And that's what he's been doing. Whenever a fellow actress would knock on his dressing room door for some booty action, he would yell at them to "get the fcuk away from my door." All so that he could stare lifelessly at a phone number. cough obsessed psycho with more mental issues than Whacko Jacko cough  
  
The phone ringed. His palms dripped with sweat. Nathan drummed his fingers nervously on the arm rest, getting the attention of a rich old lady. Smiling suggestively, she winked and walked into one of those bathrooms.  
  
Nathan shook his head and thought "there's no fcuking way she actually thinks I would ever have sex in a bathroom on a plane, let alone with her... maybe with Haley, ooo her body is so hot and she did look so pleasurable... ok, Nathan stop. Don't get horny when you are trying to call her. She'd probably know too. That'd give her another reason to hate the world. I swear though, she's psychic. But man, those toilets can suck out more than just piss. Dude, guys having sex always end up losing half their testicles. Wow, I sure feel bad for the people living below us. Hah, just imagine. Flying balls smack dab in your face. Ok... how weird is this? I have been conversing with myself for a good 2 minutes. She really is making me crazy. Ok stop talking to yourself Nate. Just concentrate on not choking when she picks up... which by the way, she should be picking up... This is her cell, isn't it? O there it is, the voice mail. Sh!t what should I do?"  
  
"Hey there mi amigos. I'm obviously not here. Actually, I'm on my way to the Bahamas thanks to Tim who helped me edit this thang. Ok, if you are a telemarketer or from the bank or some place asking for my hard earned money, I died. If your name is Lucas or Jake, I hate you. You can share the love, but you can't share the wealth. Thanks to you, I am sitting here in couch class. If you're Jules, I also died. Do not call me to nag about taking care of my nephew until I come back. And if you're my parents, please call me seeing how you've been MIA for most of my life. Leave a message at the beep and if you beg hard enough, I'll return the call. B- bye."  
  
"BEEP!"  
  
"Sh!t no!" Nathan said loudly as he abruptly hung up his cell. He didn't want to leave a message, but god damnit! He hung up AFTER the beep! And to add to that, he didn't want to leave a message. I mean, he did, but message- leaving is big. Especially when you're a wannabe lover like Nathan. You have to rehearse, take notes, and practice enunciating the words. Pronunciation is the key to getting a girl. If you had a speech impediment, well let's just subtly put it that—it sucks to be you! But rehearsing is important. It's like a law. And he was so close to breaking that law.  
  
Slowly breathing in and out, Nathan began to relax. He'd try to call her later. Yep, later was a good time. As his eyelids started to close, he suddenly bolted up startled.  
  
"The Bahamas! She said she was going to the Bahamas!" he said loudly. Realization seemed to dawn on him as he quickly glimpsed over to the curtain separating the first class from coach. She did say she was in coach class. Maybe there was just this itty bitty chance that she was on this plane. And then maybe, just maybe they could meet in the bathroom for a little fun. Who cares about losing half of your testicles? This may be his last chance to see her again.  
  
He quickly got up and headed for that blue curtain. "Why do they have a curtain here anyway? It's not like the coach class is festering with lice and what not. O God, I sure hope not," Nathan thought. He had never been in the coach class. Hey, don't roll your eyes at the poor dude. He was born in a rich family and lived richly. It was like taboo to be seen in the coach class. Not to mention all the tall tales about people in the coach class.  
  
There was even this one story that involved a dancing rat on a juke box gnawing on a clown. Don't ask. Trust me, just don't even bother asking. How that story even crossed into their minds is unknown to the best of us.  
  
Trembling, he brushed the curtain open. The rich old lady quickly looked at him disgusted. Hah, she sure lost her attraction for him. Whispering away, she dashed by and headed to other posse of rich old ladies ready to spread the latest gossip: Nathan Scott crossed into forbidden uncharted territory, the coach class. Dun dun dah.  
  
Glancing around, Nathan tried to see a familiar brunette. Finally he saw her sitting next to a brown-haired guy, talking heatedly with a flight attendant. He sat in an empty seat and watched quietly.  
  
"What do you mean there are no more honey roasted peanuts?!?" Haley asked loudly with a red face. Haley was starving for food and it wasn't nice to hear the stewardess was out of honey roasted peanuts. I mean, this is a freaking air plane. And all air planes are like required to carry an abundant supply of honey roasted peanuts. It's like common sense that more people likes honey roasted peanuts than the regular salted ones.  
  
"I'm sorry ma'am, but we do have some salted peanuts," the stewardess said pleasantly with the fakest smile ever seen. "Why can't these idiots just shut up and eat the god-damn peanuts! I have a big fcuking headache without all this sh!t," she mentally grumbled. God, what she wouldn't do to just stuff the peanut bags in Haley's face and rip her hair out. Besides, she sure as hell wasn't gonna give this bitch the honey roasted peanuts that she was saving for herself. No one needed to know that she stole bags of honey roasted peanuts at night. They were after all her favorite food. Living on an air plane for most of your life does that to you. You learn to love the nasty food and starchy clothes.  
  
"Girl you best not be lying. I swear, I'm 'bout to bust a cap in yo ass," Haley said while Tim was just laughing his head off. This was her and Tim's thing to do: annoy people. Usually, Haley was the one to yell and Tim would then calm the female server down with a little relaxation wink wink. It was the easiest way for Tim to get laid. Just coax the girl and she'll fall for him. Sure it was a dick-head thing to do. But Tim had begged Haley to agree to do this since they were 16. Now, it was just a routine.  
  
Yeah, Haley knew Tim was a real dick-head; to be precise, the biggest dick- head she ever knew and that's including Haley's initial reaction to Nathan. But she still loved the lil bugger. Besides, she enjoyed the yelling. It was Haley's guaranteed way to manage her anger. Sure, it's unhealthy to yell for reasons dealing with your voice box and your mental state, but it was fun... in a sickening way. Plus, Haley really was really hungry. She had skipped the meal and was beginning to regret it. A lot. She was always angry when she was hungry.  
  
Tim had persuaded her to use their old routine because it was a win/win/win situation. Haley would get her peanuts. Tim would get laid. And the stewardess would experience the "luckiest day of her life" (his exact words).  
  
"Look, I'm sorry ma'am but there just isn't any left," the flight attendant said in a hurried voice. Her Barbie smile faded a bit. It was so hard to smile when talking, but it was an art she had perfected. And then this bitch comes along to ruin it. She glanced up at the guy sitting next to her giving her an arrogant smirk. "Dumbass thinks I'd fcuk his ass. Yeah right," she thought while internally rolling her eyes.  
  
"Don't you sorry ma'am me! Look, if I don't get my peanuts I'll yell that this plane is about to crash. Don't think the pilot would like that, would he?" Haley asked harshly in a low voice. The stewardess looked fearfully at this raving lunatic and hurried off to get the honey roasted peanuts. Tim followed her. Yep, it sure was a win/win/win.  
  
Nathan crept over to Tim's aisle chair and plopped down. Startled, Haley looked up from her magazine, her mouth dropping down. No fcuking way. She wordlessly opened her mouth, still in shock. No fcuking way.  
  
Ok this is just messed up. How is it that Haley and Nathan have met so many times coincidentally? Did God decide to play pawn master now? Was Hshuffling the deck of cosmos cards?  
  
"How—how are you here?" Haley asked, the words barely slipping out of her stuttering mouth. Put yourself in her position. There you are, hating the world just nicely, but then along comes a guy and he is everywhere you are. Talk about that really bad love story.  
  
"Well, I paid for an airplane ticket through a travel agent and sat in my assigned seat and found you here. Long story short, I used my legs to relocate my body to this seat just so I could sit here," Nathan joked cheesily. She was so surprised it warmed him to know that she was happy. Yep, he did indeed turn into a big sappy fluffball.  
  
After a minute of awkward silence, Nathan began to fidget. Haley started to twirl her hair, her stomach grumbling loudly. She looked hungrily at the man sitting next to her. His food was on that little pop-out desk. She sneakily stole a French fry. Then another. Then another. Then pretty much the whole box. Hey, leave the starving girl alone! Yes, it is another person's food. Yes, she is technically stealing. And once again yes, she must look insane in front of Nathan. But when the stomach growls, dignity is long forgotten.  
  
While she was savoring the salty fatty food, Nathan coughed and looked at her. "She's so adorable... even with that big smudge of ketchup on her cheek... so adorable—Did I just say the word 'adorable'? Nathan what is wrong with you? That's like saying the word 'spiffy' or 'dandy'. No offense, but you have to be an old female Brit and wear a feathery hat to use those words. Why am I so dorky?" he thought desperately.  
  
While Nathan was undergoing major self-criticism, Haley was eating happily all of that guy's food. "Loser's weeper, winner's seeker. Wait no... that's not the saying, is it? But whatever. I won, so ha! That guy will never know. O the beauty of food stealing!" she thought merrily. Nathan sat there and decided to break this weird silence.  
  
"So how's the weather in Tree Hill?" he started. Yep, the weather. Yeah, I know what yall are thinking. What the fcuk? Shouldn't our dream couple be past this point? Are they back tracking? What, is the weather fascinating or something? Does it have this appeal that all sane people are just oblivious to?  
  
"So-so. Nothing mind boggling. Bet it's nothing like Hollywood though, right?" Haley said, still munching on the fries. Once she had grabbed the last fry in her dainty fingers, she looked over at Nathan. Slowly, the fry fell out of her hand as she looked him over. A warm gush washed over her and she immediately felt like pouncing on him and then cuddling. "Wait no! I don't cuddle! I use 'em and sweep 'em. But—but aww he's so... my everything," she thought as all those stupid girly feelings swept back in. Haley James, food stealing cynic, has just checked out.  
  
Unable to talk about the weather for a split second more, she grabbed him by the collar and led him into a storage room. It was filled with blankets, pillows, and sheets which just made it all the more softer for their little rendezvous. Wow, I sure feel bad for the numerous travelers who will be snuggling up against the tainted linen. For tainted, it will be...  
  
Roughly, she slammed him against the wooden door. So hard, that a bunch of blankets fell onto them. So, engulfed in a sea of fuzzy blankets, Haley and Nathan started inching closer and closer. Nathan swooped down and kissed her, his tongue needling its way into her mouth. Happily, she obliged. He smeared kisses along from her mouth to her neck, sucking on the tender skin behind her neck. Blissfully content, she closed her eyes.  
  
"Nathan..." she moaned softly, only to encourage him even more. She pushed him off her gently, deciding it was her turn to take lead in the game. She kissed her way down his neck, making her way to the skin exposed at the top of his chest. She unbuttoned his shirt with her teeth and stripped it off him. Her hands clinging to his toned stomach and fingering with his belt buckle. She couldn't resist him anymore.  
  
Once they were too tired to carry on, they fumbled down onto the blankets and sat there naked. Haley awkwardly wrapped herself in a sheet. Usually, she was confident about her body, but with Nathan she hoped he wasn't just oogling her... As much as she hated to admit it, she wanted more than sex.  
  
Somehow, Haley had this strange feeling that this was like her first time. In actuality, it was nowhere near her first time. It was forever sealed as a hot steamy night with Lucas (her boyfriend back then) in the backseat of his car. Yes, she was a little on the slut side. But the point is that this moment was how she had dreamed her first time would be.  
  
Suddenly, her thoughts were broken by the obnoxiously loud speaker. "This is your pilot speaking for Flight 101. Sorry folks, but buckle up. We'll be landing soon," a grizzly voice echoed.  
  
Nathan and Haley scrambled to put on their clothes and exited, glimpsing back at the blankets all over the place. It had been so perfect. Damn that speaker and its high volume and the fact that this was a plane that needed to be landed soon. Damn it all.  
  
As Nathan reluctantly rushed to his seat, Haley stopped him by the back of his oxford shirt.  
  
"Which hotel are you staying at?" Haley asked, ignoring her head inwardly screaming "stop sounding so desperate." She was supposed to be Haley James, poised, feisty brunette who should be hating the grimy rich instead of falling in love with one.  
  
"Four Seasons, I'll call you," he said quickly and backed to the first class section. He was still glowing with sex. You know, the after-sex glow. Except this time, it was the after-love-making glow. Big difference.  
  
Haley plopped down on her seat, thinking "how the hell is he going to call me? He doesn't have my number... Did he just lie? Did he only want sex? No, no he's not that type of guy, is he? No, he's not... He is not one of those guys... but I never gave him my number..." She didn't even realize Tim, who was sitting there with the after-sex glow.  
  
"Haley?" Tim asked her giddily.  
  
"huh?" Haley responded, still having a mental struggle.  
  
"I got laid."  
  
"Huh? What? O that's just pleasant Tim."  
  
"Haley, you got laid too."  
  
"What? No, I did not."  
  
"Yes you did. You have this glow, but it's not quite the after-sex glow. It's different."  
  
"Thanks Tim, your words are always umm... amusing."  
  
"No probs Haley, no probs."  
  
"So how did you quest for your conquest go this time?  
  
"Well the stewardess is a lesbian and—"  
  
"What?"  
  
"She's a lesbo."  
  
"And how did you attain this knowledge?"  
  
"Well she refused me."  
  
"And that means she's gay because...?"  
  
"Look at me Haley. I'm a hot magnet. I'm on fire, that's how hot. And what straight girl wouldn't want me? What sane girl? Doesn't even matter about their preference."  
  
"God, Tim you are a dick-head. That's the reason she didn't want to screw you. That right there."  
  
"Whatever Hales. Even you fell under my charm, don't even deny it."  
  
"That was in high school when we were horny teenagers willing to fcuk a tree."  
  
"Hey, that was one time. One time. And yet you still bring it up."  
  
"Tim, that lady's tree had to get cut down. She thought all the white stuff was mold."  
  
"O man, that was hilarious. Ahh the good ol' days."  
  
"Ok Tim whatever you say, but then who gave you that glow?"  
  
"O this rich old lady."  
  
"O my God, you did an old lady?"  
  
"Rich old lady. Big difference."  
  
"O so she paid you like a gigolo."  
  
"Yeah something like that."  
  
"Did I ever say you were a dick-head?"  
  
"O many times."  
  
"Good."  
  
The plane buckled up and down unsteadily. Haley, just a tid bit scared, looked out the window and saw nothing but the islands right next to the big ol' blue. "Ok, the pilot better know what he or she is doing. O God, please don't kill me. I have so much to offer in this world. I swear, I'll stop being bad. I'll stop cussing too. I'll at least try. I don't want to drown in the ocean or get eaten by vicious hammerhead sharks or great whites. O God, not a great white. Even though they are like in Oceania, please don't make me prey meat for a great white. Fcuk fcuk fcuk fcuk fcuk... Shoot! I'm not supposed to cuss! Ok, I'll start over—starting now..." Haley thought shaking with fright. She tightly closed her eyes and latched onto Tim's arm, her nails digging into his skin. She heard Tim scream. Unfortunately, she thought his scream was one of those moribund screams right before a shark bites off your leg. Thus, she clutched harder onto him.  
  
Needless to say, the situation was not like that AT ALL! There was no great white/hammerhead shark. Tim was screaming because her nails were ripping into his skin. And believe me, freshly manicured nails hurt. A lot.  
  
Slowly, the plane stopped and there was a loud noisy rummage as people began to gather their bags. Haley opened one eye first. Seeing how there was no sharks chewing on bloody limbs, she opened her other eye. Good. Now she was a nail scratching, food snatching thief with perfect 20/20 vision in both eyes.  
  
"Haley why the fcuk did you do that?" Tim asked incredulously, massaging his arm.  
  
"Tim, don't cuss," Haley said, trying to change the subject. Besides, there was lil kiddies running around. Now, because of Tim and his colorful choice of words, they were running around and screaming obscenities. Yep, gotta love them.  
  
"Haley why did you manhandle me?"  
  
"I did not manhandle you."  
  
"I beg to differ James."  
  
"Smith it's all your fault anyway."  
  
"_My fault_? How is it _my fault_?"  
  
"You brought me here to this island place."  
  
"Haley it is Spring Break."  
  
"Tim, we are not teenagers anymore."  
  
"Well, we're not old people either. Just think of us as _post_-teenagers."  
  
"_Post_-teenagers? Tim, I was wrong. You're not just a dick-head. You're also an idiot. Way to multitask."  
  
"Whatever, you got laid because of me. And a thank you would be lovely."  
  
"Yeah well, we have to get off the plane."  
  
Once they were off the plane, they squeezed onto a shuttle bus to get to a hotel. As they passed the Four Seasons, Haley saw Nathan get out of a limo and walk into the place. Quickly, Haley pulled the chain to stop the shuttle bus. Tim and Haley settled at the Sheraton hotel right next door to the Four Seasons. To Haley's displeasure, they didn't have enough moolah to spree for the Four Seasons. Darnit.  
  
As Nathan looked out of his hotel's window, he saw her walk by, eyeing the hotel in search of him. He smiled. She must feel this love business too. He's not the only one. Slowly, he lay back onto his bed, fantasizing about the things he would do to a certain brunette in that little ol' storage room.


	5. The Bahaman Beach Front

**AN: THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed! They bring me smiles as corny as that sounds. Thank** **you: _Aiesha, hope165, lysser8312, CMMJL4EVR, lauren, OTHlover04, Jill, _and_ mildlybizarre_.**

**Chapter 5: The Bahaman Beach Front**

One whole vacation day was wasted for Haley. Completely and utterly wasted. Down-the-drain wasted. In-the-dump wasted. Why? Well, our dear comrade just sat by the phone all day and night. 24 hours. Of course, there was the occasional bathroom break where she would sprint to the toilet and back, then check the messages just to be safe. But all in all, she came up empty handed. And an empty handed Haley is a cranky, PMS-like Haley.

"I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" was her constant chant as she paced through the hotel room. Okay, so what if she was shouting at herself? Sometimes, people need a little blatant self-condemnation... even if your next-door hotel neighbors think you're a meth addict.

Fuming and muttering random obscenities, she pulled on some clubbing clothes hastily. In fact, she was so mad, she put on two different shoes; one orange, another blue. Note to readers: never dress yourself when you have guy troubles. I guarantee you'll regret it.

Slamming the door, her thoughts ran in her head a mile a minute. "God, I am so stupid. I should've known all he wanted was sex. Just look at me. All people see is sex. I'm a whore. O my God... I _am_ a whore. Look what guys have done to me!?! They have made me into a whorish sex addict. Ok, so maybe not to that extreme, but look at what all males do to proper women. Why can't women inherit the world and just use men for breeding purposes? There would be no low self-esteem, no anger, no cat fights... just peace and harmony. Of course, the world would be unbearably boring but we could always bring them up from underground for nonsexual entertainment purposes. I could finally use the whip and shackles in my closet for good reason too. I could just dust them off and use them on Nathan THE Dick-head Scott. He would have to be naked of course... for maximum pain exposure... not for me and my weird ideas of pleasure. No, not for pleasure, because I don't get any such thing from any manwhore. I am an independent woman. Now all I need is to dance to that stupid song by Destiny's Child (no offense) and I'll be independent to boot. You'll see, stupid consciousness! I'll show you! I will ignore every man tonight. No, not only ignore all of them, I'll insult them so bad they'll be crying for their mama when I'm done. I'll whip them up and down, all around. Hah, just wait... just wait," Haley thought eerily as she exited the hotel and walked to the nearest club in hopes of meeting Tim.

While Haley sat, Nathan was sitting in his dark hotel room. Being a busy bee, he had many phone calls and what not, but whenever he had free time all he would do was sit and stare at his cell phone, at her number. Yes, creepy I know...

Why is he still staring? Why can't he flip the fcuking phone and dial the fcuking number? It's not that hard. Hell, you don't even need a brain to use technology nowadays. All you need are hands, which he has... and they are big... very big hands (to add to that wink wink).

Anyway, there he was just staring. He was so nervous and intimidated by her. He could make or break whatever the hell they have going on. He liked to call it the Emotional Mystery... only because it sounded like he was something short a detective. Yeah, deep down he was this nerdy guy afraid of the world. He was scared. Why? She saw through his façade and she might not like what's under his mask. He's supposed to be this Greek god-like, rich hotshot who liked cars and bikini playmates. Underneath this cover, he was a guy who liked chic flicks, sunsets, and girls who wear those one piece swim suits. He was a dork deep down. And this all just felt like high school too. She was that popular chic and he was that nerd in the corner who played Dungeons & Dragons...not that there's anything against that game, the game's awesome.

Fumbling with his cell phone, he finally got the nerve and dialed her number... only to be greeted by her phone message.

Beep!

"Um... hey Haley, listen I'm sorry I didn't call... On the bright side, it was only one day. Not like I screwed you and never called you ever again... Ok, I should shut up now... Look call me, because I think there's something here between us and I can't turn away from it. I won't let you try either. Call me at 555-567-3425. If you don't, I'll get my bodyguard to stalk you. I'm dead serious too."

He flipped the phone off and sat on his bed to think. "Sh!t, this doesn't feel right... She should've picked up. Girls always carry their cell phones everywhere... unless they're mad. Is she mad at me? Or is she ignoring me? Dammit, girls are so fcuking weird. Why can't they just have signs on their forehead? It would tell us guys if they're pissy or happy, sad or angry. God, that would be so much more simpler! Except if you were illiterate, then it'd be hard to read the signs. O I know! Girls could just tell us what they're feeling! That'd be good for everyone, both illiterate and literate people could understand girls... But I don't mean, them telling us in their weird code. I mean straight out, flat out truthful words. Not 'o yeah sure, go hang out with your guy friends; I'm perfectly _fine_ with that' because let me tell you consciousness, they so don't want you going with your guy friends... but it's not like that would help me here. If I was a girl, I'd be pissed at the guy who fcuked and didn't call (even though it is only one day... seriously, girls need to relax but I suppose it's all those raging hormones. Girls and that PMS thing, whatever it is. All I know is that it's a curse on men sent from the devil because Eve was too happy, and on women too... I mean, that must suck to go through with that every single month). So yeah... she's probably pissed and knowing her slightly anti-girly-girl-like tendencies, she'd go to a club instead of wallowing in self-pity. So the closest club would be the best option... See, I'm thinking like a girl... creepy."

He grabbed his wallet and left his room, sprinted to the nearest club, just hoping she was in there. He didn't need much help to get passed the bouncer which may seem unusual seeing how this was a gay club and Nathan was certainly not into guy-on-guy action. But lately, the tabloids (namely The Enquirer, gotta love them... not) had been printing stories about Nathan and his apparent "gayness." How did these stories even cross into their minds? Well, since Nathan has been turning down many leading ladies' offers, the tabloids decided to have a parade. Yeah, it doesn't make much sense, but it happened. So the bouncer just smiled suggestively at Nathan and let him in with an arm on his shoulder. The whole time, Nathan was shuddering and convulsing.

Of course, Nathan hadn't the faintest clue that this was a gay bar... and neither did Haley. Thus, Haley was utterly perplexed as to why guys ignored her the whole night but she was instead being confronted by rather overly-friendly women.

"O well," Haley thought, "at least the Bahaman women have manners unlike some people. But I wonder where Tim is..."

Yes, Tim was off in another club and had forgotten to tell Haley its name. So right now, while Haley was talking to some delightful lady, Tim was screwing another delightful lady. And of course, he was having fun using up the money he had earned when he was gigolo-ing himself to that rich old lady.

Finally Nathan saw Haley talking to that delightful lady about the hottest topic to talk in any type of club, the upcoming presidential election. Yeah, Haley was known for being a party pooper and a fun sucker. And that lady was getting so bored, so she left with her "friend" and let Nathan to take her spot.

Haley sat quietly, ignoring Nathan. Nathan sat there, glimpsing at Haley every now and then thinking about how much his love life sucks. Yes, because it sucked major butt. But whatever, because THE Nathan Scott aka THE Womanizing Scott had a love life where the one girl he wanted, was the one girl who had the most mental issues he has ever witnessed. The most. And that's saying a lot when you're in show business...

Suddenly a girl came up to Haley and tapped her on the shoulder. Nathan, being a manly man, couldn't help but start choking out laughter. She did look umm... quite manly if I do say so myself. Squinting his eyes in an unattractive manner, Nathan had to make sure this was a girl. I mean, there was just so much testosterone in that human, it had to be male. But alas, the human was a very malish female.

"Dance with me or get outta my way," the girl (or beast to Nathan) said to Haley. Of course, Haley was scared sh!tless. Who wouldn't be? But Haley, being that brave gal, put on a bitchy front.

"Excuse me bitch, but how the hell did the bouncer let you in? Is he blind?" Haley asked calmly but a little confused as to why this person wanted to dance with her... Yeah, Haley's just that slow sometimes.

Nathan seeing her act all defensive, decided to pull off the Knight In Shining Armor act. No matter what happens, the Knight always wins the Damsel in Distress's heart and beats the Ugly Ogre to pieces. In this scenario, he was the Knight, Haley was the Damsel In Distress and the manly girl was the Ugly Ogre. But of course, he wasn't going to hit the Ugly Ogre because ultimately she had two X chromosomes. Yeah... Look, I told you before, Nathan is a cheesy dork. He tends to come up with the weirdest things ever.

So soaring to her rescue, Nathan came in front of Haley and cocked his head in front of the man-girl. Exactly like this scene in this hysterically bad teen drama show I know... God, what was the name of that show? Hmm... All I know is that in both cases (on the show and in Nathan's Knight in Shining Armor act), the Knight was not needed at all. In fact, the Damsel in Distress could probably have defended herself. Even if evil cheerleaders and abnormal man-girls seem intimidating, they aren't that scary... ok maybe they are, but they can be beat.

"I think she doesn't want anything to do with you. So get outta here," Nathan said as buffed up his chest, which really was pointless. Either way, the man-girl had a bigger chest because she had duct-taped her cleavage... yeah, some people are just a little odd... and creepy...

"Psshh whatever you say man. Jus' so ya know, this here is a gay club," the man-girl huffed and turned around, leaving the horror-stricken duo to scramble their asses out of the club.

Huffing and puffing, the duo stood out of the club and unknowingly had raced towards the beach front. They broke out in laughter and fell onto the sand in one heap. Haley's head was buried in Nathan's chest, each shaking with fits of bubbling laughter. When the laughter had died down, they sat there in silence, gaping at how stupid and slow they were.

"O my God, I seriously was scared of that person though," Haley laughed lightly. She looked at the moving waves of whitewater, thinking "yeah right, that man-slash-woman was no person. She should be called an 'it.' No matter how mean and bitchy that sounds, it's the cold hard truth... wait, aren't I supposed to be ignoring every man, especially him!?! Aghhh... stupid libido. Stupid Nathan and this irresistible attraction that is so uncalled for." She relented and slumped down besides Nathan, her head leaning on his shoulder, her eyes photographing everything about him. She just couldn't get enough of him. He was addictive and she was too weak to fight back these emotions. And she couldn't help but think that maybe Hollywood isn't completely filled with schmucks. Maybe that's only the majority of them, but there were a few untainted ones.

Usually our dream team would most likely be talking about the weather, but I guess being in a gay club and facing a confrontation with an 'it' could certainly be that proper ice breaker. But soon, like all conversations, the talking started to dry up and the awkward silence filled the hollow void.

"So the weather looks mighty fine here, don't cha think?" Nathan asked uncertainly. He hated silence and as pathetically dull as the weather is, that was his escape route. Haley, on the other hand, just gaped.

"O no no no no no no. No. We are not going back to _that_ of all things. No, we are going to talk about everything but _that_ from now on. Do not ever talk about _that_ with me. Talk to your local meteorologist, not me. No, we have to get over this—this phase type thing. I mean, you're a guy, I'm a girl, why can't we—like, go out on dates, do real talk, and stay together. God, I mean I like you—a whole lot. Lemme tell you, I like you a lot, no more than a lot. Like super duper mega lots. And I think you feel the same. I mean, maybe you do or don't. That whole let's-not-call-Haley-after-I-just-fcuked-her thing totally confused me. Am I a sex toy or something more? See, we need to talk about whatever the hell is going on. It's so—so weird. All I know about you is what the media says. I want to know what you say. And hell, you don't even know me. I mean, I could be a secret stalker or a spy or a hitwoman and you would never know. I could even be working for those tabloids that say you're gay and yet, you still would have not a clue. You really should be more careful. If this is how you treat every girl, then you need to be cautious. Like right now, I could be hiding a gun in my coat and I could so pump your ass with lead from this angle. And—"

"Ok, you're right Haley. It's just so weird talking about feelings and sh!t like that. But you're right. We can't talk about the bouts of weather forever... First, you're not just a sex toy. You're something more. Before the airplane ride, I was sex sober for months after the country club. And you're right. I don't know a thing about you. So I guess we should do that real talk and stuff..."

To say that Nathan was nervous would be the Understatement of the Year. From his perspective, he was about to pour out his heart to someone. Not like those stupid interview specials on TV where the interviewer holds a box of Kleenex while the interviewee bawls his eyes out because his childhood dog got wounded in a near-fatal accident with a truck. No this was going to be the real deal. No crap included, only the truth and that was nerve-wracking. I mean, how does one tell their lover everything about himself? People are just supposed to know your favorite color is blue because over time, they'd notice you always sport blue clothes. It's just so awkward to put on a dorky smile and say "Hey, love of my life! Just in case you didn't know, my favorite color is blue, but more specifically sky blue. I like how the sky's color is so transparent and blends so well. Thus, don't be alarmed when I wear a completely blue outfit. No, I'm not color blind!"

Haley, realizing Nathan's hesitance, decided to go first. Yeah, it's just a tad awkward listing all your faves and what not, but they needed to start somewhere...

"Ok, I guess we should start with the basics. Hi, I'm Haley Rebecca-Ann James. I'm a 26 year old who works at a red carpeting company. I was born and raised in Tree Hill, North Carolina. I have a weird accent, because I lived in New York to go to NYU, the place where I started my whole rampage against rich folks. My best friends are 3 strange guys and a girl named Theresa who works for NASA in Annapolis doing science and wonders. My parents suck. I haven't seen them since 10th grade. But they randomly make appearances every now and then. I guess they work behind the scenes. My sister, Jules, the one with the baby, likes to scream directly into your eardrums. My brother, Jason, is in the army. My dog, G-unit, is a total Southern gang dawg. He has the spiky collar and all. My favorite color is red because it's symbolic and I'm one of those insane people that read too much into everything. The best food in the world is mac n cheese. My favorite animal is the Chihuahua because it's tiny and compact. I don't have a favorite movie, but my favorite song is 'One' by Three Dog Night. I tend to sing that song everyday in the shower or whenever I get lonely or am just plain hyper. My motto in life is 'Live, Fcuk, Roll Over, then Die.' My hobbies are running, talking, and being overdramatic. I hate going to work, because my boss is a slave driver and a money swindling pig. He's like the much less wealthy and ugly version of Hollywood stars. I'm dead serious, he looks like a pink wrinkly big blob of fat oozing around. O and I tend to ramble on forever and sometimes I'm an insensitive bitch... or so I've been told. In high school, I always told people the truth. Some mistook me for a bitch, but I like to think of myself as—outspoken, raw, honest, and unique. And I was nice... if you weren't trying to become popular by using me. But seriously, what the fcuk is the big deal with being popular? I tried to make myself so uncool. I wore plaid pants and big eagle rimmed glasses and even started to correct people's grammar. But all that did was make me popular. The whole high school scene just confused the crap out of me, so college was welcomed... I think that's all the basics..."

Nathan just stared at her wide eyed. "Of all the chics I had to fall in love with, it had to be a complicated one. Just give her a set of tomboy clothes and voila! Instant replica of Avril Lavigne. She probably hates all her exs too. No, not just hate, she probably publicly denounces them as a royal jackass... Sh!t, what if things go wrong and she hates me and all this crap happens? O God, what if I mess up? She probably won't because girls are like that. They sometimes slip, but that's occasionally. Us guys mess up on a daily basis... Sh!t, she's looking at me... what do I tell her?"

Haley drummed her fingers on her purse, thinking "God, of all guys I had to fall in love with, it had to be a slow one. Just give him blonde hair and voila! Instant replica of Jessica Simpson. He probably asks dumb questions too. No, not just dumb, they're probably insanely stupid. But in spite of his slowness, I still have this crazy thing for him. Wait, did I just start my whole thought process by saying I had fallen in love with him? Wow there, let's take it slow—Nathan Scott style... What's taking him so long to move his damn luscious mouth? Just say something... we've been sitting in silence for 5 minutes and it's creepy..."

Finally, after an additional 5 minutes of silent waiting, Nathan finally decided to open his trap and talk...

"Umm... ok... so I've never done this sort of thing. I mean, yeah, I've given interview type things, but not this. Well, you probably haven't either... Ok, so my name is Nathan Daniel Scott. I'm a 25 year old actor. I was born in Kentucky (AN: lol random but whatever) but raised in San Francisco. Whenever I'm there I like to sing that stupid song on that commercial about the San Francisco treat. People walkby and tend to think I'm some crazy bum, but I do a lot of stuff not captured by the media... yet. I hate tabloids. My best friend is Tim Smith, the dumbass on the Smith Show. I seriously don't know how he's not unemployed. He's the biggest dumbsh!t I've ever met, but I'm glad otherwise he'd bum off me. My parents are Dan and Deb, the biggest scam in this country. Don't tell anyone, but their marriage is a contract. You know the Dan & Deb Cooking show? Well, they've always hated each other, but they married because it was a good 'money move.' They met at some bar in college. I hate both of them. They sicken me. O and then there's this whole scandal with my dad knocking up some helpless cheerleader back in high school and Deb right after her, landing himself with me and my half brother. I swear, my life is a soap opera. Like, you would think this crap doesn't happen in real life? How stupid could a guy be? There are things called condoms and what not that stop pregnancies. And in case that doesn't work, there's a fabulous thing called abstinence. I know lots of people don't follow it and hell even I don't, but hey it prevents these things. My half brother is some weird girly brooding basketball player who always seems to think the weight of the world is on his shoulders. I hate him; he's like a walking talking freak show. My dad loves him though. It's so messed up. I have a dog, but it got ran over by a truck. So it's injured. I strongly dislike it. It bites me so many times on the ass cheeks, but I usually tell my sad dog story to reporters and then I cry. It's fun...in a sickening way. My favorite color is blue. I love tiramisu. I don't really like movies. After you see the mechanics of how they are made, it gets kinda boring, but I love acting. So I tend to act a lot even in real life. Like the one true time I actually cried was when my grampa died. Other than that, everything else was fake. My favorite song is 'All You Need Is Love' by the Beatles. I tend to think way too much into stuff. I think that's about it..."

Haley had to sit back and absorb all this stuff... This whole moment was weird. Who starts dating someone like this? It felt so much like a cheap dating show. It was just too easy to be real. There just had to be a gimmick... a snag... something that brought this weird surreal moment back to reality.

Just then a posse of giggling girls approached them. They were pointing at Nathan. Just then one of them walked away from the group and towards our dream team... "Great," Haley thought "there's the snag... stupid girls who ruin the moment, who are most likely gonna be annoying brats, and who are going to try to ruin our relationship..."

The girl giggled and twirled her hair in her dainty long fingers. She had perfected the Dumbass act and was ready to grab a guy, well not just any guy—this was THE Nathan Scott. Guys like him always fell for ditzy girls. At least that's what she thought...

Shaking her blonde curls around lightly, she came up in front of the lovey dovey duo. "Who's this chic? Whatever... I'll get him even if it means snatching him from another..."

She kneeled down beside Nathan making sure to wave her cleavage around for good measure. Of course, Nathan looked but just rolled his eyes. "O God, they are the fakest fun bags I've ever seen. They look like someone shoved a balloon in there. I bet I could pop them with a pin. Hah, that'd be gross. All the silicon would squirt out. Eghh... here she comes... O man, I hope Haley won't get mad at me for this. Aghh! The one chance I get to actually converse with Haley and some stupid stalker girl has to ruin it. O she'll pay alright..."

While Nathan was scheming ways to make the blonde girl pay for the damage she had caused to their moment, Haley was a little on the green side. And I'm not talking 'bout money, honey! Haley James was jealous. Who wouldn't be? Here ya are talking to this man who could be the love of your life and then some girl has to come over to chitchat. And y'all know she just doesn't want to chitchat with your man. No, she wants to do her dirty way with him. And it doesn't help that your man did look at her unrealistically huge boobs either... so what if he was only scoffing? He looked nevertheless. And of course, now you're sitting here watching the slut flutter her stupid eyelashes at him.

"Hi, I'm Erin. This is kinda embarrassing to ask, but my friend over there wanted to ask you if you think I'm cute," she said as she waved her boobs around some more. "Good," she thought, "start off with a corny pick up line... then pounce him..."

"Well yeah," Nathan innocently started but received the evilest glare from Haley, but continued rapidly, "You've got to refer me to your plastic surgeon... My dog needs a bit of a face lift... ever since the accident..." Then, for special effects, Nathan cast his eyes wearily down and softly whimpered. Slowly, realization of what Nathan was doing dawned on Haley. To help with the performance, she patted him on the back and bowed her head in mock grief.

"O my God... are you alright?" Erin asked, completely oblivious to Nathan's jab at her boob job. Immediately, Nathan lit up his face brightly at the mere mention of the question.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Nathan asked in feigned confusion but with a happy brightness. See, Nathan Scott loved to use his acting talent for evil purposes. Every now and then, he would act all schizno on a poor innocent girl. He also liked to mix it up with a bonus Multiple Personalities act. It was fun seeing the look of bewilderment on their faces. And this girl deserved to be frightened.

Erin looked at Nathan confused, but then decided to ignore it. She wanted to be on his good side. That's how one got sex from the elite. Then Nathan started to look around haphazardly, rummaging around the sand.

"Are you looking for something?" piped Erin while gingerly removing the sand from her hair. THE Nathan Scott was a tidbit rude. She had just got her hair done today and here he goes flinging sand all over her locks. O the audacity! "I swear, if he wasn't a hot celeb with great sex potential, I'd so kill him," she thought.

"Yeah... Have you seen my enormous jar of Penis Reducing Cream?" Nathan asked while seriously looking around the sandy lot for it. All the while evilly thinking, "God, she must be confused as hell." He glanced at Haley, hoping she would understand what he was doing. And apparently she did. For she was rolling around the sand, laughing her ass off. And of course—pretending to look for his cream.

"Umm noooo...," Erin replied bewildered. This guy, this famous celeb with walls lined with awards and honors, was a psycho! One second, he's crying about his wounded dog, next he's looking for some cream—his Penis Reducing Cream to be exact.

Then Nathan decided to take a different turn now. Well, this Erin girl was wearing a very revealing shirt. And Nathan was of the male gender. How could he not notice her rack? It was hanging out there, waving around in the moon's light. And of course, Nathan could be a real jackass when he wanted to. Thus, he decided a little wrongful sexual innuendo would justifiably creep her out. This was always the fun part, but sometimes it was painful... slapping tended to occur during this part of the Psycho act.

"Are those your breasts or are they Siamese watermelons?" Nathan heard himself say, then started to chuckle at how stupid the line sounded. But whatever, it was worth it. Haley was laughing her ass off now, shaking uncontrollably in the sand. Erin's face shone from POed to PMSed. Damn, here comes the slap...

"Excuse me," Erin spat out. How dare this prick say that to me? Who does he think he is? She walked right up to him, slapped him square on the jaw and made a beeline back to her posse. All the while, muttering obscenities and cursing Nathan like there was no tomorrow. "Stupid dick! My boobs are not to be oogled at like that! Yes, I did wear a skimpy top, but you're not supposed to say that! Ughhh!" She turned around and then screamed loudly, "Fcuk you Nathan Scott!" which just added to Haley's laughter.

Nathan held his jaw, blinking back the pain. Yep, that girl knew the art of slapping. Haley toppled on top of him, still laughing and cuddled next to him, reciting how damn hilarious that was and how he was actually talented; he could act!

Haley tugged at Nathan's arm to take him back to her room. As they walked, Nathan held his hand to his jaw in pain while Haley was still laughing hard. They crossed the board walk, where Haley saw Tim call at some girl. I believe his exact words were, "bitch, give me some of that disease!" Of course, the girl slapped him, making Tim run to Haley for comfort. Great... two slapped men whining about the red mark's pain.

She took them both to her hotel, where she dropped Tim off with a big bag of ice to cover his cheek. Then Haley and Nathan traveled to the Four Seasons suite. Haley dragged Nathan inside and gently massaged the sore spot with a little ice baggie. Needless to say, both enjoyed the "nursing."


End file.
